


Arrangements

by katineto (mistalagan)



Series: YoI One-Shots [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Modern Royalty, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 08:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistalagan/pseuds/katineto
Summary: The marriage is a good political move, one where Yuuri’s job is to leave his country, be a good consort, make Viktor happy and stay out of the way. Organize charity events and pose for pictures with underprivileged children.(prompt: victuuri royalty au where victor insists on treating his arranged courtship like a secret romance because it’s more romantic)





	Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr.

Yuuri can’t sleep.

He hasn’t been able to sleep since he arrived, seven days ago. He’d blame it on the time difference, or the elevation change, or any number of other normal things that cause normal people to lose sleep. Really, though, it’s because he can’t get the finality of his signature, black ink on paper and iris scan for verification, out of his head; he can’t get past the memory of Viktor Nikiforov’s firm handshake and world-famous smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

The marriage is a good political move, one where Yuuri’s job is to leave his country, be a good consort, make Viktor happy and stay out of the way. Organize charity events and pose for pictures with underprivileged children.

Yuuri can’t sleep, and he dismisses the rustling noises coming from outside as paranoia until something hits the window with a loud _crack_. He jumps, eyes darting from the window to the door.

Not everyone in Viktor’s homeland is happy that he’s marrying some foreign nobody who barely speaks the language and isn’t even good-looking. They’ve been warned about possible assassination attempts, despite the tight security at the palace and the surrounding grounds. Yuuri’s heart beats a little faster.

Another _crack_ , and this time he sees that it’s a small rock that impacts the bulletproof glass and bounces back to the ground.

(Would an assassin target him with rocks?)

He slips out of bed and sidles over to the window, peering down. He’s on the second floor, so he can see the figure below fairly clearly. Whoever it is isn’t really trying to hide, though he is wearing a dark hoodie that puts his face into shadow. The person glances around, then ducks down to pick up another rock.

When he stands up, his hoodie slips, and Yuuri catches a glimpse of moonlit hair.

His eyes narrow. He unlatches the window just after the third rock hits, and hisses, “Prince Nikiforov?”

Viktor Nikiforov’s grin is wide, sloppy, and in sharp contrast to the thin albeit dazzling smile he’s consistently trotted out over the past week. “Yuuri!” he says in a loud whisper, “Good evening!”

It’s three in the morning. “Good evening?” Yuuri says, slowly. “Is—something the matter, Your Highness?”

“ _Yuu_ ri. Call me Viktor. No, wait, call me Vitya. Are you doing anything right now?”

Yuuri glances back into his darkened room. “Not…really.”

“Great! Quick, climb out the window.”

Yuuri looks doubtfully through the open window, then down to the ground. “How?”

Viktor purses his lips. “Well, I think bedsheets are traditional for stories of forbidden romance. I didn’t bring any rope. Should I have?”

“No, that’s okay—sorry, did you say forbidden romance?”

An eager nod.

“Prince N—uh, Vitya. We’re getting married. We signed a contract?” Briefly, Yuuri wonders if Viktor Nikiforov has a secret twin brother, and if he’s actually talking to—Vitaly Nikiforov, or something. Or a very sophisticated assassin, with face-changing technology.

“ _Well_. Yes. But that’s not very romantic, is it?”

Yuuri blinks down at him. He could also be hallucinating. How many days without sleep, he wonders, is required to start seeing things?

“Anyway, even if we are getting married, we need to be able to interact without our chaperones! Though the strictures of society may work to keep us apart, I confess I desire nothing more than to know you away from the judgmental eyes of those who watch us for mere propriety’s sake—”

“This isn’t the eighteenth century, Pri—Vitya, we don’t have chaperones.”

Viktor raises a finger. “Ah, but I counted no less than six paparazzi yesterday on our scheduled walk through the rose garden.”

Really? Yuuri hadn’t seen anybody. Though, to be fair, he had been distracted by trying to figure out whether they were supposed to be holding hands.

“The light glints off the camera lens a certain way,” Viktor informs him.

“Oh.”

They stare at each other for what seems like a very long time but is probably less than a minute. Viktor shuffles back and forth. “Yuuri. Please?”

He looks so sincere, and oddly very young; wildly different from the image he projects during the day. And it’s not like Yuuri was sleeping anyway.

“Okay,” he decides, watching with bemusement as Viktor’s face lights up again. “But I’m going to go out the door. Not the window.”

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor sighs. “At least go out the side entrance?”

Yuuri can feel an involuntary smile begin to steal across his face. “…Okay, Vitya.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do actually have more written in this AU, but it's in bits and pieces and who knows if it'll ever get patched together properly. If it does the rating will likely go up.


End file.
